


For Tradition's Sake

by steelneena



Series: CR 2 Oneshots and Short Series [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, modern but set in canon world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 18:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17188520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelneena/pseuds/steelneena
Summary: Mollymauk is excited for the holiday season, but there's one wish that he's not sure will come true...





	For Tradition's Sake

**Author's Note:**

> Belated Christmas Present. Happy Holidays Everyone.  
> Written to: Christmas Eve by Celine Dion https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPwyoGwlYcw

Mollymauk feels ridiculous. They’re at the strip mall together. The strip mall isn’t supposed to be romantic, especially not on the eve of Winter’s Crest. It’s not even a  _proper_  mall! But somehow, watching Caleb browse through the pile of half-priced books beneath the overhang of the nearest building, lit in warm golden light from the window, and red and green from the rope lights clipped up around the doorway, Molly’s heart is simply bursting out of his chest like he’s the freaking Grinch having his ‘come to Pelor’ moment right there on the slushy sidewalk outside Danny Snow’s Used Books and The Animal Corral.

The door opens, sending the chiming ring of silver bells through the quiet, snowy air. Caleb looks up at the sound, shaken from his reverie. He’s holding a single book in his hands, open about a quarter of the way through. It’s been ten minutes since he picked it up, flipped through it, and began to read, but Molly (who has been kicking shapes into the slush and road salt while he swings his shopping bags aimlessly) didn’t mind. Caleb was happy, and that was what made it alright.

“Oh. I have lost track of time.” Caleb mutters, noting the page number before closing the book. “Forgive me, Mollymauk.”

“It’s no problem, Caleb. It’s not like that usually happens. Hey, what time is it anyways?” Molly asks smiling dopily, he’s sure, at Caleb.

The other man is bundled tightly, wearing the blue scarf that Nott knitted for him. It’s coiled over his ears, though the tips are visible and very, very rosy, and covers his mouth and nose, but leaves just the apples of his cheeks exposed. He’s also worn his old coat; they’d picked out their tree earlier that day, and he hadn’t wanted to ruin the new one…well, Molly hadn’t wanted him to ruin the new one. Caleb was always looking for an excuse to dig out the old brown coat. His gloves are off, stuffed in his pockets, and his fingers are raw, cracked and oozing.

Molly frowns. “Caleb, put your gloves back on. Jester’s going to have a fit at you if I don’t first.”

Wide eyed – humourous it its own way, over the obscuration of the scarf – Caleb scrambles for the gloves. “Ja, ja, ich weiß. Sorry. The pages don’t turn well through the fabric.”

“It’s fine, dear, just, take care of your hands, please? Let me buy you some balm, or something. Look. There’s one of those rip-off brand name places that don’t organize anything right there. Let’s get your books and then I’m sure that place’ll have something. Deal?”

Caleb eyes Molly carefully for a moment. “Ja, okay. Deal.”

Gloves back on, Caleb grabs the book he’d been reading – in addition to the pile he’d made prior – and makes his way to the door. Molly gets there first, hauling the stiff door open for Caleb with a wide grin. “In you go, Caleb.”

“Danke, Molly.”

He wants to swoon. Caleb’s blue eyes make his heart shudder so impossibly that he just wants to keel over and die  _right now_  of embarrassment. Molly is sure that  _everyone_  can see it, just how utterly and completely Molly is in love with Caleb.

Everyone, that is, except for Caleb.

Inside, the store is dimly lit with old, yellowing bulbs. It smells like ginger and cranberries and musty paper. A very Caleb scent. Molly breaths it in, uncaring. It’s warm indoors and he takes the chance to unravel his own winter bedecking. Not that he’s by any means uncomfortable. Caleb had only berated him  _just a little bit_  for wearing his own favourite coat, first, because it was absolutely going to get sap on it when they got the tree, and secondly because it was – “not suitable for the northern weather, you will freeze and then you will be a tiefcicle and where will you be then, Mr. Mollymauk?”

He’d worn the coat anyways. It was lined, which kept the worst of the wind at bay, and he hadn’t deigned to even touch the tree, just picked it out and watched as Jester and Yasha worked the saw to fell it. It was a deep vermilion with his own, lovingly embroidered stitching covering nearly every inch. And if he had to be a little cold for the sake of fashion, so be it.

The purple cashmere scarf falls away from his throat and he undoes the buttons and the cloth tie belt, letting it hang open. Molly only briefly looks around the interior before his eyes find Caleb again, waiting for the elderly Daniel Snow Sr. to make his way to the register for Caleb, who is eyeing up yet more books.

Caleb has also disentangled himself from his scarf. He participated in No Cut Cuersaar so thoroughly that he’d yet to ask Yasha to give him a shave since, and his face is obscured in a beautiful, shining, ginger beard.

Molly had imagined stroking it lightly many, many times.

It’s never happened.

Molly sighs and looks away. Jester had said something to him about his predicament already almost a month ago, but he’s yet to have taken her advice to heart. It never seems like the right moment.

_If you don’t tell him how you feel, you’ll never know._

Yasha told him that everything would come in time, but only if he was proactive.

If Beau knew, then her response had been to punch him in the shoulder. Probably. Molly still wasn’t exactly sure what that had been for, but, next to Yasha, Beau was just about his best friend in the whole world, even if she kept a lot of herself hidden, he knew when a punch was just a punch.

It hadn’t been just a punch.

Wistful, Molly decides to explore while he waits. There’s a whole display of books with old, archaic, even foreign (he thinks) titles, but none of them hold any interests for him. And then, he sees it.

“Caleb!”

“Hmm?”

Caleb has looked up. Daniel Sr. is price checking one of the tomes, his movements agonizingly slow.

“Come’ere!”

“Alright, I am coming. Now. What is it?” He asks, once he’s standing side by side Molly.

Molly grabs his arm, practically dragging him to a display. “Look! A book on old Zemnian Winter’s Crest and New Dawn traditions!”

Caleb gives him a small, pleasant smile. “That is very nice, Mollymauk. Here, let’s look to see if it is a really good collection or not, ja?”

The binding cracks open and Caleb starts to flip through the book. But it’s not the book that Molly is most interested in. It’s Caleb, of course. And one other thing, but that can wait because Caleb –  _Caleb_  – is beautiful like this, glowing like a yule log with glee as he points out a particular tradition involving hot water in a bowl and lead or wax. Molly only feels a bit bad for not listening. It’s hard when the person he’s focused his affections on for so long is beaming before him with excitement.

“- it will tell your fortune for the New Year-“

“Caleb.”

“Hmm, was ist?”

“Caleb, that’s lovely and I can’t wait to learn more, but, look up dear.” Molly watches as Caleb’s eyes scroll upwards, his head staying still.

“Oh. Um…”

“It’s tradition.” Molly feels a hint of a wobble enter his voice, banishes the nervousness. “Of course, if you don’t want to, I’ll completely understand, but I don’t-“

“I do. Want to, that is.”

Caleb is looking back at him, with even more intensity than he had when looking at some of the books only moments ago. It leaves Molly short of breath and all he can manage is a light, “Oh.”

“Unless you-“

“No, please!” Molly shakes his head. “I’m just…forget it. Let’s…let’s give tradition her due.”

Caleb blinks. It’s a quick movement, but Molly feels like he’s just had the truth wrung from him in one, precise look.

And then Caleb takes him by the hands and pulls, ever so slightly and they’re nose to nose and then-

Molly can’t help that his eyes flutter shut at the kiss. It’s everything he’s imagine and better. Sweet simple, perfect. And-

Caleb doesn’t stop. He shifts, his hands turn and suddenly their fingers are intermingled and Caleb’s mouth is open over Molly’s and the kiss is deepening and they’re chest to chest and-

When they break for breath, Caleb’s lips are ruby red and sparkling from Molly’s new gloss balm (Jester was always giving out her presents early) and he’s breathing heavily and that look in his eyes has softened and melted and Molly inexplicably wants to start crying.

“Liebling, are you okay?”

It takes Molly a minute to register what Caleb’s asked, and yet one more to notice that there’s soft mingled clapping come from the check out and from the aisle next door.

Molly only has it in him to nod. Caleb’s smiling again, soft and gentle.

“Then you do not mind if we do that again? I think Winter’s Crest has come early this year.” Before he knows it, Caleb’s pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Molly’s mouth. “I have been wanting to do that for some time.”

“Oh, Caleb!” With how wildly his tail is whipping about from joy, it’s a miracle that nothing’s ended up on the ground quite yet.

Molly throws his arms around Caleb, buries his face in the scarf around his neck. He can feel Caleb’s arms come up around him, hands sliding gently against his back. They stay like that for a few moments, Caleb whispering soft things to Molly as he wrangles control over his emotions. When they part, Caleb takes hold of his hand and leads him to the counter where the books are waiting. He sets one more down on the pile with a satisfying thump. The book of Zemnian traditions.

“Congratulations, folks.” Daniel Sr. says as he rings up the total. “You have a good holiday now.”

“The best.” Molly can’t believe the sound of his own voice, like he’s just had the best sugar rush of all time, better even than when Nott got into Jester’s stash of thin mints. “The absolute best. You too. You have the best holiday, too.”

Caleb wraps himself back up, turns to Molly and does up his coat for him, and twists the scarf around his neck, once, twice, mindful of his horns. He takes the bag of books, and takes Molly’s newly gloved hand in his own and together, they exit the store in a jingle of bells and a sparkling swirl of snow.

 

Walkin' with you in a winter's snow

Kissin' underneath the mistletoe

People smiling everywhere we go

It's Christmas Eve and they can see we're in love

 

Ooh, you make the season bright

With the lights reflecting in your eyes

All my dreams are comin' true tonight

It's Christmas Eve and I can see we're in love

~ Celine Dion  _Christmas Eve_

 


End file.
